there is a need in every single soul for a Querencia.
a place where the mind can rest, create, imagine, be quiet..
it could be a room, a nook, a town, a state, a log in a creek..
I was sitting on the porch of our new place this morning..
the dogs were out in the 2 acre yard sniffing around..
the languid Mississippi heat already making speeches.
It is odd, but it feels like we have always lived here,
like this is the Querencia that came looking for us.
I bought a collection of William Faulkner short stories on CD yesterday..
The first CD has Faulkner's acceptance speech for the Nobel Prize for Literature..
He had a very rich, wispy, regal, distinguished voice.
His accent very much like Shelby Foote,
an old Southern sing song cadence..
like my Mother-in- Law Ellen.
These things, this place, my Querencia..
wkm
Oxford
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